There Were Those Moments
by gretasbedtimestories
Summary: "Weasley's an idiot," she heard the familiar drawl. He stood just a step above her, arms crossed and shoulder leaning coolly against the stone banister. "Quite frankly, you're being a bigger idiot for crying over the likes of him."
1. Chapter 1

**There Were Those Moments**

September 6, 2011

_Disclaimer_: After eight years of being an avid reader of Draco and Hermione fanfiction, I finally came up with my own story. It's nothing much (it probably even sounds generic), but it was really something I wanted to try and accomplish. I do hope you enjoy this light read! Reviews will be very much appreciated.

**Chapter 1**:

In 4th year, Hermione Granger descended the marble staircase wearing a lovely pink frock. The dress flowed gracefully in ways that caused many to be astounded. She was a vision—hair styled in a unique twist, revealing a pleasant face that not many realized she had. It felt new that she carried neither heavy books nor her usual messenger bag; just a simple matching clutch she held on to very nervously. One of the Patil twins had gushed about how beautiful she looked, Harry Potter could not keep his eyes off his dear friend, and even Draco Malfoy thought she looked half-decent.

But that, of course, was a very underplayed version of what he genuinely thought.

That evening, Viktor Krum had been her date. It was awkward yet giddy—exactly how a first date was expected to be. He was a complete gentleman; very traditional but a bit thick—however, she blushed each time he flashed a lopsided smile or took her waist to lead her around the Great Hall. Once, he brought her to the refreshments table to fill for her a goblet of light punch. There, Draco Malfoy stood; quietly sipping his own drink.

"Ah, Draco," Viktor greeted in his heavy Hungarian accent, holding out a large hand to shake Draco's.

"Viktor," Draco nodded, taking his hand firmly. "Granger," he acknowledged, giving a curt bow while flashing the tiniest of smirks—a smirk that only Hermione caught.

"Malfoy," Hermione replied, keeping a stoic face and avoiding all eye contact. "Viktor, is it alright if we head back to our table?" she suddenly asked, forcing a polite smile.

"Oh, I vas just going to ask if I could have a moment vith some of my friends? It von't be long," he assured, his voice low yet courteous. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and motioned to Draco. "Perhaps Draco can keep you company, yeah?" he faced the blonde, smiling at him for the favor he just asked.

Hermione nearly choked from the punch. "Oh, that's really not—"

"Go on ahead," Draco suddenly spoke. "We'll just be here."

"Thank you," Viktor clapped Draco on the shoulder. "I'll be right back, Hermin-niny."

A few short seconds after Viktor had left, Hermione took a sip from her punch and cleared her throat. "This really isn't necessary, Malfoy. You can go now."

"And get on Krum's bad side once he realizes I left his date alone after specifically asking me not to? I think not. He asked me for a favor, Granger. I'm a man of my word."

"Whatever," Hermione muttered under her breath, biting her tongue from commenting that she hardly thought he was a man. After all, he was doing something somewhat nice—except she didn't know what his deal was.

They stood a broom's length away from each other—Draco's arms were crossed while Hermione took a sip of her punch every so often. All around, students were dancing. Even Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore had managed to leave the teacher's table and shared a fun dance with Neville, Seamus and Ginny.

"Shouldn't you be with your date?" Hermione asked, placing her goblet down on the refreshments table and crossing her arms as well.

"I never considered Pansy my date," he spoke, the smirk never leaving his striking features. "She was merely…convenient."

"You're a pig."

Draco snorted at her remark. Hermione waited for a harsh or sarcastic reply, but nothing came. At that point, Viktor had returned with two plates of pumpkin pies from the dessert table. "Draco, thank you for keeping my Hermin-niny company," he bowed his head gratefully.

"It was a pleasure," he nodded, facing Hermione all of a sudden. "Evening, Granger."

And with that, he walked off in his usual swagger leaving Hermione utterly speechless.

The night came to an end and Hermione found herself crying at the bottom of a deserted staircase. Of course, the evening would've been perfect especially after Viktor took Hermione's hand and placed a light kiss. But no, stupid Ron just had to ruin everything. She cried harder after recalling the events, feeling so hurt, angry and humiliated for what he had done and the words he chose to say. She began hiccupping, and just when she started to shiver from the cold of the castle walls, she felt an expensive-looking coat being placed over her shoulders. "Weasley's an idiot," she heard the familiar drawl. He stood just a step above her, arms crossed and shoulder leaning coolly against the stone banister. "Quite frankly, you're being a bigger idiot for crying over the likes of him."

"Malfoy," she started, her voice cracking a bit. "I would really appreciate it if you could just leave me alone."

"No," came his reply. "I think I'll stay."

"Well then, I'll go," Hermione stood, drying her eyes with the back of her hand and making a move to leave.

"I honestly think you need the company."

Hermione stopped in her tracks. "Right. So you didn't come here to make fun of me?" Her voice was cynical.

Draco shrugged. "I think Weasley's done enough of that for tonight."

Hermione fell silent; as if she was actually considering his unusually gracious offer. "Fine," she said. "But I'd prefer it if you just didn't…talk."

And so, they sat in stillness at the bottom of the deserted staircase, almost a foot away from each other. Draco took out his wand and conjured paper birds that flew exquisitely just above their heads. Together, they watched them silently.


	2. Chapter 2

**There Were Those Moments**

September 6, 2011

**Chapter 2**:

They never talked about that night. A couple of years had passed and in 6th year, things were furtively taking a turn in the Wizarding World. While many dark things were happening in quiet corners, this was also the first time Draco had been falling behind with his studies. His professors were beginning to be concerned, but there were more important things he needed to attend to. His studies would just have to wait.

One very late evening, while Hermione struggled to finish the last two pages of her Potions essay in the library, she jumped up from her seat when a certain blonde just suddenly collapsed on the chair in front of her and immediately placed his head on the table. "I'll need you to keep quiet, Granger," he said with eyes closed.

"You were the one who nearly gave me a heart attack, Malfoy."

"Good," he muttered, head still in the same position and eyes still refusing to open.

For a short moment, she stared at him. He really made no move to get up or even talk. With a sigh, she continued scribbling down on her parchment—glancing at him and his perfect hair every so often. When it was half past midnight, Hermione made her finishing touches, re-read the entire essay, and rolled up the parchment to be placed inside her bag. "Malfoy," she called out, already packed up and ready to leave the library. "Malfoy," she repeated.

He made no reply. Instead, she heard a grunt and a few soft snores. She sighed. Was she really going to leave him in this state? She almost felt bad. She wondered what made him so exhausted these days, and why he was suddenly making less of an effort in trying to keep up with his studies. He looked frail and skinnier as well. His skin was paler; almost translucent. And his eyes—they used to be so full of youth and mischief. But now, they were dark and broody; it was like something (or perhaps someone) had unabashedly drained the life out of them.

With a flick of her wand, Hermione conjured a scarlet blanket and placed it over Draco's shoulders. She transfigured one of the books on the shelf into a small pillow, and placed it under his head and arms to make the position more comfortable for him. After placing her bag over her shoulder, she took one last look at the sleeping boy and made her way out of the library.


	3. Chapter 3

**There Were Those Moments**

September 7, 2011

**Chapter 3**:

Rumors were spreading around the entire school that the Dark Lord was indeed coming. Whispers and murmurs about the dreaded attack echoed throughout the castle walls, that no one ever seemed to notice the frequent disappearance of a certain blonde Slytherin. No one, that is except for a particular bushy-haired witch who grew more and more curious each time she found his spot empty in the Slytherin table. Twice, she had heard from a group of girls that someone had taken the place of Moaning Myrtle in the second floor bathroom, weeping non-stop as if he or she had suffered from a fate so ugly and inescapable. They couldn't tell who it was, because the door was always protected and a silencing charm was consistently cast. It was Myrtle herself who had walked out of the bathroom, feeling very annoyed at the intruder who decided to take her place. One night, curiosity finally got the best of Hermione. As soon as everyone in the castle fell into a deep slumber, she snuck out of the dormitories, borrowed Harry's invisibility cloak (by borrowed, she actually stole), and made her way towards the second floor loo.

When she entered, the bathroom was empty. Even Myrtle was nowhere to be found. She walked around, checking each cubicle; looking for any piece of clue or evidence that could lead her to something; anything. Just as she checked the last cubicle, she heard the bathroom door open swiftly then slam close. She then heard quick, shortened breaths—like whoever it was had been crying for quite a while.

Could it be Myrtle?

Slowly, she walked towards the source of the commotion, making sure the invisibility cloak was wrapped tightly around her small frame. When she saw a lean figure of a boy sitting on the cold tiles and leaning against the white, porcelain sink, Hermione nearly gasped at the sight.

It was Draco Malfoy, and he was crying like he had been broken and could barely breathe. He would pull at his hair, if he wasn't pounding his fists on the ground or clawing it. His eyes were so red and puffy; she could almost see the veins in them. His tears and sweat mixed together, allowing his pale skin to glisten more under the reflection of the moonlight on the mirror. Hermione found herself frozen in her spot; like she had been stupefied. She watched him as he would sometimes gasp for air—the intensity of his cries robbing him off of his own oxygen. When he would calm down, he would shakily take his wand and attempt to conjure his flying paper birds, then he would watch them—temporarily putting him in a calm and quiet state.

Hermione had never been so astounded.

And then in a snap, he would return to crying; the paper birds falling gently onto the tiles, getting soaked in the bathroom's puddles.

That was when she realized Draco Malfoy was also human.

The days following that incident, Hermione followed him each time he entered the girl's bathroom to release his pent-up emotions; like it was a dam breaking through a concrete barrier. It was then she understood a task had been set out for him. She didn't know what it was or exactly who it came from, and each time she tried to figure it out, he would completely disappear in the Marauder's Map. Of course, she had her own problems to worry about. She couldn't just let her studies slip, she continued to secretly pine for Ron even though she knew it was hopeless with him dating Lavender Brown these days, she had to be the ever-supportive friend of Harry Potter, and a war was about to ensue in the Wizarding World.

At times, when things took a toll on Hermione, she would sit on her favorite spot at the bottom of a deserted yet familiar staircase.

And that was where Hermione found herself again, after walking in on Ron and Lavender snogging in the Gryffindor common room—of all places. She needed to clear her mind. There were more important things than Ron, she reminded herself. With a flick of her wand, paper birds sprang out and flew just above her head in a steady rhythm.

"Fancy meeting you here, huh Granger?" came that familiar drawl once again.

She jumped slightly at his voice; her paper birds losing their momentum and falling onto the ground. Draco walked down the steps and took his familiar spot beside her. Casting a simple spell on the fallen birds, they began to glide off the ground and fly above their heads once again. "I see you've taken a liking to my spell," he smirked, watching as the birds formed random patterns in the air.

"It does have a calming effect," Hermione answered, placing her palms on her lap and staring at the birds.

"I heard Weasley got himself a new girlfriend," he snorted, capturing a paper bird in his fingertips then letting it loose.

"It doesn't matter," Hermione said, a bit annoyed. "There are more important things I have to be worried about."

"Here," Draco spoke, pulling a book out of his black carrier and placing it on the ample space between him and Hermione. The leather-bound book was entitled _Angel Wars_, and Hermione knew it was a very rare book to find.

Hermione eyed the book in awe then looked at Draco skeptically, tilting her head to the side. "What's with the sudden change, Malfoy? Why are you suddenly being nice to me?"

Draco shrugged. "I'm just…tired, Hermione. Tired of it all." And with that, he stood; letting the birds fall like leaves and making his way up the staircase.


	4. Chapter 4

**There Were Those Moments**

September 20, 2011

_Author's Note_: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews and kind words! They fattened my heart! Haha. Hopefully I can finish the story by the end of this month. But if not, I do hope you continue reviewing and letting me know what you think. Once again, thank you. I really appreciate your thoughts and comments.

**Chapter 4**:

Draco lay on one of the white beds in the dimly lit area of the hospital wing. He stared up at the ceiling, a million thoughts running through his head and slightly numbing the physical pain he was going through at the moment. His bare torso was wrapped in bandages; the blood from the deep gashes on his chest seeping through. He was both nervous and scared. He knew he was running out of time, and being in the infirmary meant he needed to work twice as hard as soon as he got out. Damn that Potter. He probably wouldn't even have time to sleep anymore. And his studies—well, he'd have to deal with that much later. For now, he had two important tasks left. One, he wasn't even sure he could push through with doing.

When he heard the doors to the hospital wing open then close, he didn't bother to check who it was. It was probably just Madam Pomfrey returning to change his bandages, he thought. He felt whoever it was slowly approach his bed, and stopped about two beds away.

"Malfoy."

His heart rose to his throat, and from his peripheral vision he could make out the form of the bushy-haired witch. "Granger," he acknowledged, pausing to let his heart drop back. "Came to send Potter's apologies?" he tried to be sarcastic.

Hermione sighed. "No. Harry left with Professor Dumbledore this morning." Little by little, she neared his bed; stopping when she was a few feet away. "But I came here to send mine."

"Hm," Draco snorted, looking at her for a few seconds then looking up at the ceiling again.

Hermione stood awkwardly for a while, not really knowing what to do. She gazed at the floor with much intensity; her grip on her messenger bag indicating that she was not at all comfortable with the situation she brought upon herself.

But she couldn't help it. The moment she heard about the news, she had to go see the git. She wasn't sure why, but part of it was because she wanted to apologize for Harry. And part of it, well she wanted to see if he was doing okay.

"Are you just going to stand there, Granger?"

"Um," she stumbled. "I was going to give you this," she finally went to him and handed an old-looking book with a thick green cover outlined by gold trimmings. "It's a book about dragons. I picked it up from the library—in case you were bored."

Hermione held the book out to Draco and he stared at it for a while. Finally, with a small smirk, he took the book from her. "Thanks, Granger."

With a smile and a small nod, she left the hospital wing feeling lighter than usual.

…..

Dumbledore was dead.

Everyone knew it had been Snape who cast the Killing Curse, but Draco sat in his usual place against the porcelain sink inside Myrtle's bathroom crying hysterically as if he had been the guilty one. He _felt_ like the guilty one. He never wanted to perform any of the tasks given to him. Sure, he was a git and a bully; occasionally, an arse. But he couldn't find himself to hurt anyone beyond the words he used and the pranks he pulled.

Contrary to popular belief, Draco Malfoy had a heart; and he knew very well how to use it.

He had never felt so scared in his entire life. Both Hogwarts and the Ministry were now infiltrated by the Dark Side. He felt suffocated—the burden of his father's allegiance was like a million bludgers hitting him wildly everywhere. He was so tired of it all—of having to put on a mask; of having to pretend that he was doing what he was doing because he wanted to. In truth was, ever since that memorable night during his fourth year, while he paid a visit to the Malfoy Manor, Voldemort had arranged a meeting for his Deatheaters and it turned out that they had kidnapped a random muggleborn witch from Diagon Alley, who they raped and killed in the middle of the dining table right before his eyes.

His perspective about all the things he was taught as a little boy had changed that night—including seeing a muggleborn like Hermione Granger as someone beneath him. And from then on, he never likedGranger because she wasn't pureblood. He didn't like her because of who she associated herself with.

Sometimes he wished he had befriended her first, way before Pothead and Weaselbee had.

A couple of nights later, Draco found himself sitting in that familiar, deserted staircase he had shared twice with Hermione. As usual, he conjured his flying paper birds—finding a strange sense of comfort in them. They reminded him too much of her, and just as they were beginning to form a circular pattern in the air, each one suddenly caught fire and burned, turning into gray ashes that floated slowly and peacefully back to the ground. Draco was caught off-guard and looked up to see Hermione staring angrily at the fallen ashes. "What do you think you're doing, Granger?"

"I should be mad at you," she said in a stern voice. "But everything makes sense now. And I don't blame you."

Draco raised an eyebrow curiously. "I don't think I quite understand you, Granger."

"You did it to protect your parents. I would've done the same thing," she said softly, taking a seat beside him. "They're on a plane now, headed for Australia. I've obliviated their memories, so they won't ever have to know they had a daughter," she told him. "It's the only way I could protect them."

Draco said nothing. He stared hard at the cold floor where the ashes lay, before slowly placing an arm over her shoulder. "I'm sorry," was all he could muster.

Hermione nodded. "I leave later tonight. Ron and I are going to help Harry look for the remaining horcruxes."

"I know," Draco said, suddenly retracting his arm. His face unconsciously fell, and he looked straight ahead—his eyes burning holes into the stone wall.

"I just came to say goodbye," Hermione said.

The seconds ticked and the minutes passed. Both were silent, until Hermione stood and cleared her throat. "Goodbye, Malfoy."

When Draco didn't reply and refused to look at her, she started ascending the stairs to meet Ron and Harry in the Forbidden Forest. Draco listened to her footsteps. Just as she reached the top, he suddenly yelled. "Granger!"

Hermione looked down curiously.

"Take care of yourself."

She gave a small smile and nodded.

Not content with his words, Draco sighed and ran up the stairs, skipping two steps at a time. Hermione watched him as he did. As soon as he reached the top, he hesitated before taking hold of her shoulders and giving her a firm shake. "The Deatheaters will be everywhere searching for you. Be on guard at all times." Leaning close, he uttered softly, "Please don't get caught."

Hermione stared at him; her pale face hiding the little fear that was instilled. She placed her hands atop his, as they still gripped her shoulder. Giving them a reassuring squeeze, she nodded, turned around, and walked away quickly.


End file.
